Once LovED, Now HatED
by stevetheloser
Summary: She hurt me, and I loved her for it." (kinda sad i guess) (read at own risk)


Here it is... my next hot steaming pile of c... words :)  
  
Oh yeah... don't own any of these freaks...  
  
~~~Once LovED, Now HatED~~~  
  
I hate them all now. I hate them for leaving, I hate them for staying, I hate them for staring, and I hate them for turning away.  
  
Every last one of them.  
  
Even her.  
  
ESPECIALLY her.  
  
And yet, I love her. I have for a while. But the hatred and anger consumes my love, making it worth less than the gum on my left shoe.  
  
It's her fault I'm here. She couldn't stand to let me leave. Had to make me stay here, fuming in this white, square prison.  
  
See, it all started further back then I could remember, but it rocketed forward when everything seemingly crumbled around me. The first catalyst I can remember would be Ed... they took him away from us to be 'treated' in the new 'treatment center.' Come on... who doesn't know that that's what they call the asylum, the mental house, the funny farm?  
  
They thought he was insane, when really he was the sanest of us all. He always knew when to change the subject to catch you off guard and, pardon my sexism, make you change moods faster than a woman during PMS. He wasn't one to work for the world or if he didn't want to, it was as if everything was under his will. He was untouchable until they started giving him medication.  
  
Yes... the medication. His personality started to alter because of those damned pills. He became brutal, smashing anything that gave him even the least annoyance. Those pills extracted his soul, threw in a stranger's and obliterated his. Made us wish we had the old Ed back... the b movies, the comics, (and in eddy's case) the ultimate construction tool.  
  
After a while he became dependent on those pills. When they (his parents) found out, they flipped. More than flipped... they blew. They probably added a few more craters on the moon when they found out he was taking extra and stealing more to replace the extra. It didn't stay secret too long after that and the officials came for him. The letters we wrote never got to him and vice versa.  
  
With him gone Eddy and I got into fights more often... the last one turned into a vicious beating coming from both parties. We were forbidden from hanging around each other from there on. That one was fine with me; I just thought I would educate you a little on how he ended up leaving. Sarah blamed him for her big brother being taken, and beat him within an inch of his life. Well, needless to say she ended up in juvi, and Eddy's parents moved, feeling their son was in danger.  
  
Nazz and Kevin... it was cute while it lasted huh? Ended the day after Ed was taken. Kevin made a bad remark about Ed, who apparently had given her good advice while he was sane. She ended up with Rolf, which I guess worked since he was about as oblivious as Ed seemed... brains, brawn, and beauty all thrown together in one union. Never thought that would happen though...  
  
Kevin wasn't exactly the type to take something like that lying down... he tried to kill them both. Broke Rolf's leg and came within inches of paralyzing Nazz from the neck down. I guess he realized what he was doing when he heard her scream, because he went home and emptied the gasoline from his truck. He spread it all over his house, lit a match, and let himself be burned alive. So gruesome, yet it fascinated me. I started to use Zippo lighters to burn parts of my flesh.  
  
I liked it.  
  
Hell, I loved it. I had created a monster within myself. It started as a small yellow monster but soon grew to be as big as Kevin's house fire, but contained within me. There was a problem with it though... it left a scent... it wasn't a nice scent, nor a bad one. But it was noticeable. So I was looking for another way to hurt myself.  
  
But I fell in love.  
  
I didn't care that she was my best friend's little sister, and I fell hard. My world stopped, knowledge ceased to be important, I didn't need anything to hurt. I just wanted her. I, acting very stupidly, grabbed her and kissed her, right then and there. I went home that day with a black eye, but I guess it was worth it.  
  
She called me back that night; she asked what I thought I was doing and if I was out of my mind. Heh... she didn't know how right she was... I had gone insane... probably...  
  
I mean... your best friend gets sent to a mental ward and then you try to make out with his little sister?? If he had ever gotten out (instead of getting killed trying, which I will explain later...) I would have been in for the ass whooping of a lifetime... or two...  
  
I asked her to go somewhere with me so we could talk in person; not over the phone, because she did live across the street and all... She said fine and that I'd better have a very good explanation for that kiss. Previous... eh, shall we say encounters? Yes encounters... with her made me start to think twice about seeing her in person privately... like when she was the one giving the unrequited love and I, the ignorer.  
  
But we met, and I kept all my teeth. Actually came out with more, for she was still in love (or so she said...) and was just waiting for me to come around. Felt like I had something good with her, except every time something went wrong in her life I would receive that pain and/or suffering physically. Yes... she was my new lighter of sorts. A new way to burn myself and without leaving marks either.  
  
Yes... she knew how to hit to make the most pain with little to no trace her fist had been there. Quite vein, but efficient... and I wouldn't be able to tell anyone either.  
  
The more she hurt me, the more I loved her, however. I was addicted to her and the pain that the salesman threw in to sweeten the deal. She hurt me, and I loved her for it. Slowly the pain got worse and worse, and I, the little masochist I was-am, became locked by her spell.  
  
So when she left me I became jealous. Jealous to any who should be her source to vent. But she couldn't vent on me: I liked it too much, so she needed a new target. Jimmy, for instance, who cowered at the slightest sudden movement or flex. It made me sick. She was mine, and I was hers. It was to be forever, her inflicting pain as a siren sings her song. Me becoming tethered to her as the captain steers towards the rocky shore.  
  
I needed her; she was my drug of choice. So I followed her. You may call it stalking, but I was just following. I was obsessed with her. I was a broken man. Without her I wasn't whole: she knew. She knew and she loved it. She was causing the pain I couldn't handle, the pain I didn't like: heartache.  
  
I tried moving on. I did. But she was always there! She lived across the street! She had for the whole beginning of my life and still would today... if I hadn't... well that's for later in my little drama.  
  
I got the news that Ed had tried to break out of the asylum. I figured he had taken on some of Eddy's traits; hell he had to. There's no way he could have led those psychopaths to rebel and take over the hospital and then try to escape without any of Eddy's charm. But local police and the National Guard showed up real fast like, and they gunned down anyone who they thought were menacing. That included psychos, freaked out nurses, and surviving orderlies. They created more carnage than Ed and his band of crazies did.  
  
Shameful really. Did they really think that the sanity challenged would negotiate? No. They'd let out who they didn't want, kill who they feared, and hold anyone they thought of value. Same with any criminal really, except their views on who was who where very distorted. They even killed and 'captured' some of their own.  
  
In the end, though, Ed tried to escape, along with about 20 other inmates. The escape plan, which lasted for about five minutes, had been doomed to failure. Their weaponry made of sporks, hypodermic needles, and chairs were no match for the country defending troops with their fully automatic machinery.  
  
Perhaps in another story Ed would have graciously led his small attack against the offending soldiers and overcome them in an overwhelming turning of tables and reshaping of all reality. This is not, so I will have to tell the truth. Ed was behind those other men and women and when he saw them being cut through like water he made a break for the hospital. He got two steps closer and one bullet to the skull further. This inspired the other prisoners-turned-militia to give up.  
  
Since then there have been 3 shootings in that 'ward.' All of which an orderly shot a man or woman that suddenly jerked. The latest, and hopefully last, the man had been going into a seizure. What does this tell you?  
  
After this rather messy incident, Sarah seemed to collapse. Seemed she had no more will to live. And I knew what to do. I comforted her. Not as her ex-boyfriend/punching bag, but as another who has jus suffered the loss of a major cornerstone of their life.  
  
Comforting led to holding.  
  
Holding to kissing.  
  
Kissing went to much more.  
  
I don't know what our relationship was then. We had both loved Ed, and we had both loved each other. We had both lost Ed, and had come back together again.  
  
We weren't lovers, because it was only one night. There was no way we were just friends though, because we were much deeper. We couldn't be enemies; we cared too much for each other. Even if it would have worked out better with us as enemies.  
  
With her no longer abusing me, all trace of hatred and distaste gone, I had to find a new way to injure myself. I suppose I might have married her, had I not married pain first.  
  
I started cutting myself.  
  
It was that simple. But she found out. There was no way she couldn't have, seeing as we were making love a lot those days. I suppose we would be considered lovers then, but I think it was more to keep our minds off of other things than love. But she saw the cuts on my naked body, my sleeves and pant legs not there to hide them.  
  
She wanted me to stop.  
  
If I was to stay with her I had to stop. So I tried. I lasted for about six months; long enough for me to work up the nerve to propose to her and start planning our wedding. It was to be huge! Every one of our friends and relatives (relatives within 2nd cousin) were to attend. We would have the whole shindig, the flowers, the church, the blessings, and all the other church stuff she was into half the time.  
  
But I was already married to pain. I had started to cut myself again, and again, she noticed. She told me I had my chance. She packed her bags and left. There was no pleasure in that pain though. It stung like a poisoned dagger. It sunk in and started to spread.  
  
Because of that I cut myself up even more. Thinking of those that had left and those that had been taken. Eventually I had cut too deep, and almost died. I would have if she hadn't come back to get her damned laptop. She still had a key, and had let herself in. She had called an ambulance on me and wrapped my wrists in towels.  
  
For this I hated her. With what felt like every fiber and molecule of my very essence, I hated her. But then the old feeling of love lingered and it was a battle within my heart. A battle between what was left of my love, and my ever increasing anger and hatred. The faint wisps of love were devoured quite quickly within the flames of my hatred.  
  
So now I sit here in my white walled prison, pissed at the world and my blade. The world for holding me and the blade for not cutting deep enough.  
  
~~~Fin.~~~  
  
There you have it. Hope someone enjoyed. :) 


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